Leaning over the side of the verandah of the Point Loma Homestead one day I saw two of the dearest little birds that ever lived. They were little baby birds that had only been hatched out of their shells a day or two before. Their little bodies were covered with the softest kind of down that could hardly be called feathers, though their wing and tail feathers were more fully formed. They were sitting quite close together on the ground, and a little distance off I saw the Mother bird perched on the top of a flower bush. As I did not wish to frighten the little birds and as the Mother bird seemed rather alarmed when I discovered her little babies, I moved away and watched them from a distance. Then the Mother bird flew down to the young ones and then back again to a bush pretending to make a great effort in flying so as to show the little ones how to use their wings. This she did several times, talking and calling to them and encouraging them to try.
That was all I saw of them that morning as I had to go away to another part of the garden, but I determined to watch the little bird family when I was near them again.
The nest was in the roof of the verandah and I thought about the little birdies how a short time ago their little bodies were not grown but were pretty little eggs, and then the eggs broke and out of the shells came such funny little creatures. You would hardly think they were little birds, for they had no feathers at first. The Mother and the Father birds would go and hunt breakfast and dinner and supper for them and what do you think they ate? Flies! for these birds about which I am telling you were "Fly-catchers", — that is their name, because they catch flies. The big birds would catch a fly in their beaks and carry it to the young ones who would open their little beaks wide for it. Well, when the little birds began to grow and get some feathers, I can imagine the Mother and the Father birds having a long conversation and laying their wise bird-heads together, discussing when was the proper time to teach them to fly. And then when the day arrived, what do you think they did? First they poked one of the birds out of the nest and then the other. Now these little birds had never flown before but when they were pushed out of the nest they spread their little wings though they did not quite know how to use them and so they fluttered down to the floor of the verandah; then another push and they fluttered down to the ground among the flowers, and that is where I saw them.
The next time I saw them was in the evening and the little birds were sitting together on a bough of a flower bush — such a pretty picture, I wish I could draw it for you. The Mother bird was near by and presently she flew to them and then up to the nest, calling to them all the while, telling them it was time to come home to bed. But it was a very different thing getting home from leaving it in the morning, for the Mother bird could not push them into the nest but they must fly there themselves. Very soon they had a good try, first one and then the other. The first time neither of them succeeded for they tried to fly all the way from the bush to the nest without stopping to rest. They very nearly got to the nest but could not quite reach it. I think their little wings must have felt quite tired. So they fluttered down to the floor of the verandah and stayed there for several minutes.
The Mother bird flew around to encourage them and at last one of them had another try and this time flew a little way at a time. At first it flew just a very little way on to the verandah railing, then it flew on to the top of a window screen that came to the middle of the window, then a third try and it reached the ledge at the top of the window. When it got to the middle of the window the other little bird flew up there too and then one after another they flew to the top and there they stayed a long, long time quite close together. The last bit of the journey home was across from the window to the other side of the verandah and just a little way up and finally they reached home safely and went to bed, snug and warm beneath the Mother bird's feathers.
There are a lot of nests on the Homestead grounds at Point Lonia and the birds are very tame. Two of them, every morning go to sing just outside the Lotus Mother's window. I think they sing to her and to "Spots'' to say that they are Brotherhood birds and want everybody to be happy and to enjoy the sunshine and the flowers. And then they sing to all the little Brotherhood babies that are at the new Lotus Home here in the little City Beautiful.
It is just like a beautiful fairy land with the birds and the flowers and "Spots" and the Lotus Buds and Blossoms and all the grown-up Brotherhood people and the Lotus Mother, and everybody working for all the World, and some day all the World will be like Fairyland and you and all of us must help to make it so.